


white noise

by skittlesjedward



Category: Jedward, X Factor (UK) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, F/F, Femcest, Genderbending, Hooker Joan, Incest, Jedcest, Jodie - Freeform, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 15:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1783981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittlesjedward/pseuds/skittlesjedward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr ask: <i>I LOVE YOUR WRITING! Can you do hooker femcest fic where edie gets jealous because Joan fucks every guy but never gets to have her? X</i></p><p>For Anonymous. Sorry it's not quite what you requested. x</p><p>Titles from White Noise by Disclosure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	white noise

**you pull my strings one by one**

It’s like when you’re between radio stations, she explained once. Nothing, really, just static. White noise.  
  
—-  
  
The thing is, Edie is tired. It’s gone 3am and Joan is only just home and there’s blood and she says it’s fine, but it’s not fine. She’s so tired, but she’ll stay awake another two hours to clean her sister’s split lip and brush all the hairspray from her hair, wipe off her make up and put some stain remover on her top and leave it to soak in the sink.  
  
She can hardly bring herself to feel angry anymore. She doesn’t know who to be angry at, in any case. It used to be the johns, for what they did to her sister, for the things Joan would tell her and the things that she had to let her imagination fill in when Joan eventually stopped talking. Then it was Joan herself; Edie couldn’t speak sometimes she was so angry with her, for still doing this shit after all this time, despite everything.  
  
But now she’s just empty and sad and she doesn’t say a word when she cleans Joan up to help her into a pair of soft pyjamas, pull her gently into bed and wrap her arms around her as tight as bruised ribs allow.  
  
And Joan cries, even if she denies it and lies about it. Edie feels the wetness seeping through her pyjama top, making the skin on her shoulder itch. She keeps on rubbing small circles into her sister’s back, praying she’ll go to sleep, or at least pretend.  
  
 _I’m so sorry_ , she says suddenly, and looks up, and Edie didn’t want this, but she has to look. Their eyes meet and she’s been crying too, though the fact that she can hide it better it isn’t much use when Joan is looking right at her. Joan’s fingers reach up to her face and Edie wants, wants to swat them away, tell her to go to sleep (she won’t) and they’ll talk about it in the morning (they won’t). Instead she trembles with the sustained effort of keeping quiet, and Joan cups her chin gently.  
  
 _Don’t_ , Edie’s trying to say, but it gets swallowed in salt and iron as Joan presses her mouth in against hers. It should be sweet, it should be chaste, it should be fucking  _sisterly_  and it isn’t, it’s raw and hungry and Edie’s hands clutch at Joan’s top, desperate. Terrified. Her sister tastes bitter, and Edie wants to gag and push her off but nothing.  
  
There’s a soft hiss in her head.


End file.
